Friendship or More?
by RunwithscissorsXXXbattlescars
Summary: In this dramatic drabble of who-knows-what, Kululu embarks on a journey of his feelings and stuff. Not sure what else there is to the story... Written for Rainbowkittyblossomwings. And the genres are complete lies. LIES, I SAY!


**Written for sis. Please get better soon... Please?**

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><p>All his life, Kululu had faced the same thing. Discrimination, ostracization, humiliation. He never fit in, and was constantly bullied. No one loved him, or cared about him. He was simply labeled as, "the one with the swirly eyes." Nothing more, nothing less. …Sometimes less. And all he really ever wanted was one thing, and that was to have a friend. If he had a friend, someone who would be by his side while the rest of the world laughed at him, that would be all he needed. But no friends came; they all excluded him, turning their backs on his brilliant talents, and looking down on the friendship and kindness he had to spare. For that, the kindness lasted shortly, and soon it was nothing more than black feelings of hatred welling up inside an aching heart. The emptiness left inside his soul created an ocean, collecting the feelings he no longer could feel at the bottom. Love, affection, generosity, kindness, friendship, selflessness, passion, acceptance… these all fell to the bottom of his ocean, and as they piled up, they would rust and deteriorate. The only feelings that welled to the surface were the cold ones: revenge, hatred, sadism, cruelty, and random curry fetishes. Very hungry ones.<p>

Perhaps it was just that no one allowed for his good feelings to arise, perhaps it was just that he had forgotten how to express such, perhaps it had to do with his natural shy antisocialism, perhaps it was of his natural behavior, and perhaps he just simply wanted people to fear him. But whatever this reason was, Kululu was not one for affection.

But all that changed when one day, _that_ woman came. More specifically, fell from the sky. It wasn't at first that they met, because Kululu had met up with the platoon a bit after the Angol girl had arrived. And he knew at once that this woman would be trouble; whether it was good trouble or bad trouble, he hadn't figured out just by looking at her. At first glance, she seemed like any ordinary airhead. Kululu analyzed her actions, not watching very closely, but enough to get sickened by her (aka, five seconds). But it wasn't by looking at her when he knew he had ran into trouble. It was when she looked at him.

Immediately he would grunt and turn away, returning to his computer work. It had angered him even more when Keroro officially decided to put the two together on a tech team, but surprisingly Angol Mois could do the job decently. Whenever something would blow up, it would always be from a deliberate action. But because Angol Mois respected Kululu's technologies, she avoided this urge. In the beginning.

But other times, those urges got the better of her. And since there were no available planets to annihilate, she had to succumb with destroying others' precious objects. Giroro was the victim most in this circumstance.

It was this when Kululu began having second thoughts. He couldn't help himself from admitting that it really was quite amusing, the way millions cowered under the great Angol Mois. In a sense, she was feared, but most took her for an airhead. He furrowed his brow, a very unKululu-like thought crossing his mind. _Am I sympathizing with her?_

It couldn't be that. She was simply the airheaded girl who couldn't have something serious to say for the life of her. Soon, Kululu found himself wondering if the actions he did as a child got to someone, and they sent a devil to condemn him to Hell. But then this devil would look him in the eyes, those golden orbs clawing down his wall of isolationism, and finding its way to the bottom of his ocean, the place where he had hoped to keep certain feelings suppressed. It was then that he would immediately look away and think, _That's the devil, all right._

And she would think, _It's like, his eyes are all swirly!_, then wonder what it would be like if she, too, wore glasses.

It would happen each time. Whenever she smiled, laughed, or simply looked at him, a little more of those feelings Kululu had stored at the bottom of his ocean would rise a little higher. This never boded well with someone who conditioned themselves so much into having the demeanor of, put simply, a jerk.

After continuous cycles of Angol Mois being all innocent toward Kululu, and he of course couldn't take such, he began to realize this girl was a severe problem. And, like all problems, she needed to be fixed. Angol Mois was obviously a stupid girl, very vapid, so Kululu, of course, had to make her more like him. A little meaner, a little more heartless. He would take this girl on as his pupil.

At first it was absolutely hopeless. The brainless ditz could barely do a single thing; besides the basics, like sewing, cleaning, and laundry. You couldn't manipulate people with those. She was also so pure and innocent, Kululu could barely bring himself to reprimand her—in fact, he couldn't—because she would just look and stare at him, smiling so obliviously. And it annoyed Kululu like heck. You'd think such a naïve little pest would obey you when you try and teach them how to cause pain and misery. But no, she just _had_ to be a stubborn little fool and do the opposite of whatever he said. "Armageddon that school of children, Mois-chan," and she'd Armageddon an abandoned factory instead. "Put tomato juice in the washing machine, Mois-chan; it'll make the laundry cleaner," and then she'd put the soap in the soup. Or "be sure to stick extra close to Keroro next time you and Tamama are in the same room," somehow got her to stick with Tamama and have a special bonding time with him. Each time she screwed up, Kululu began to believe more and more that he was being driven off the brinks of sanity.

He had to manipulate her. Somehow. But he knew no way that he could harness the Lord of Terror. It seemed that whenever he asked her to inflict pain on someone, she would sweeten them up instead. And whenever he held Keroro hostage to get her do do something, she would be preoccupied with something else. It was ludicrous, really. He seemed to be doing it all for nothing. In the end, she turned out exactly the way she was before—the kindest, most innocent, and most sparkling being that had ever destroyed the face of the earth.

But in the end, as she smiled at him with the utmost dazzling smile, a sort of tickling feeling sank into Kululu, as he realized that by now the smile didn't bother him as much. In fact, long ago it had started to bother him less and less. He had always felt a strong emotion toward it; but could it have been that he had been mistaking pleasure for annoyance all along?

Maybe Angol Mois _had_ irritated him. But even in the worst of situations, she always seemed to be by his side with that radiant smile. And though it embarrassed him to admit it to himself, wasn't a friend what Kululu had always wanted, and was deprived of, all his life up until the point upon uniting with Angol Mois? It was the truth that at present, no one could really deny the two were friends, let alone they respected each other. But maybe Kululu was getting a little more than what he asked for. You could say, more than friends?

But the worst part was, he was fine with that. Perhaps even more so; he _wanted_ it. Enough to have built up a detestation toward Keroro that went beyond his hatred for the green leader's lack of duty and responsibility. He felt that Keroro did not deserve Angol Mois. He did not love her, and was too lazy to care. Kululu felt the girl deserved someone who would at least care for her well-being, and her happiness. He felt she deserved… well, himself. No matter how airheaded and useless she may have appeared, Kululu decided to come out and admit to himself what he had been afraid to think for so long. He had a crush on Angol Mois.

After secretly confessing this, Kululu felt a little more comfortable around Angol Mois. He found a little more pleasure in the things they did together, and somewhere, deep down inside Kululu's ocean of misery, one of those good feelings rose to the top.

Angol Mois, however, though she may not have been too clear in the head, knew how to decipher the look on people's faces, and knew how to understand body language. Every since she got a bump on her head after crash-landing on Pekopon, the universe to her began to look like a much more inferior place. The brain damage this crash caused inflicted a mien of insanity on her, and before long she had discovered the joy in toying around with peoples' emotions. And it was all in the looks, the brainless appearance, the "useless" outcome of her actions, that she hid away her love for manipulation. Sometimes she felt a bit of pity on Kululu; he always wanted to be the one at the top, always wanted to know that no matter how many people despised him, he would always be feared, and in a place of power. And behind him stood Angol Mois, smiling that innocent smile while they all suspected nothing. Perhaps you could say she found it amusing, and a bit ironic, that as Kululu spent time trying to teach Angol Mois how to manipulate, he was the one being manipulated. And he would never know this. Not while he had his pride to speak for him. Angol Mois did, however, suspect something was up when Kululu started acting differently around her. A little nicer, maybe? But then she'd dismiss this, and move on, still pretending to act oblivious. And maybe she was. Only a little. But she did know that for some reason, Kululu would never come out on top.

Not while she was pulling the strings.

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><p><strong>Whoa, funky Mois there. It's always who you least suspect...<strong>

**I don't think I'm going to write any more of this, contrary to what I said earlier. Sorry. (;**


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